All That Jazz
by Phoebejoeyfan
Summary: Based loosely on "Chicago" The roaring twenties, a time of fun filled frolics and new found freedom, but for 3 women it was a time of Murder,Deciet and Corruption. MC PJ RR plz RnR thx xx


All that Jazz  
  
Chapter 1: Phoebe sings the blues  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends, or the musical/film "Chicago"  
  
A/N: This is just a short chapter to try and establish the story, but there will be plenty more angst and drama to follow. :o)  
  
I have written at least one more chapter for all my stories, which I intend to update all this week, so keep an eye out for them.  
  
For anyone waiting on a update for "Someone Like You"...I'm currently writing the last chapter, and have been for a while. Its turning out to be pretty long, so I may have to cut it into two. In which case there will be an update in the next few days. xxx

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It was 1920 in the bustling city of Manhattan, New York-"the" place to be. The bright lights and the glitz and the glamour were enough to entice any wannabe starlet, who fancied herself as the next Clara Bow to answer the calling of fame and fortune.  
  
They flocked in their thousands, from the mundane states in which they had grown up, to arrive in the city that never sleeps to conquer the prospects of stardom, that they believed would be offered to them on a plate.  
  
But, sadly, very few made it to the big time and Monica Geller was one of the unlucky few. Numerous nasty comments and harsh rejections only made her stronger, giving her the fight to carry on, trying harder each time, but never quite cutting it. Somehow, no matter what she did it was never enough in the eyes of the new, cruel world of entertainment.  
  
As time went on, silly mistakes and bad decisions would lead to her downfall, taking her on a rollercoaster ride to the brink and back.  
  
Murder. Deceit. Greed. Corruption. Violence. Exploitation. Adultery. Treachery.  
  
Just a few of the horrors she was about to encounter on her journey to the stars. How it would all end, only fate would decide.

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The rapturous applause, the soaring, sweaty heat, the pungent aroma of stale alcohol, all mixed into the floating clouds of cigarette smoke that lingered relentlessly around the tiny room, giving it its sultry, inviting atmosphere.  
  
There were thousands of Jazz clubs just like this one scattered around Manhattan, but what gave this one its appeal was the fact that it had become known as somewhat of a lucky charm to the relative unknowns who regularly frequented it, night after night, in a desperate bid to be plucked from obscurity and propelled to the top of the fame ladder.  
  
It had become a running joke with staff that the bar was to change its name to "No talent required"...which wasn't exactly true, as there was some aptitude needed...a talent for flirting unashamedly with drunken producers and other overnight celebrities who returned nostalgically to their old haunt. Casual sex was the key to the gates of Hollywood.  
  
The boisterous crowd began to simmer down, their chatter subsiding as the lights began to dim, and the band hushed.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Harlem jazz club is proud to present, once again, the amazing, the one, the only...Phoebe Buffay!"  
  
The applause echoed around the packed room as the spotlight focused on an empty centre stage and as the band began to crescendo the anticipation grew.  
  
Then, like a Phoenix from the ashes, she rose from below. Her long blonde curls flowed freely around her sexy curves, which were encased in a figure hugging black sequined dress that stopped at her knees.  
  
Her blackened, mysterious eyes starred blankly out into the awed audience, who she knew was there to see her, and only her.  
  
She had performed this routine a million times, but tonight her revue would be ever so slightly different. For tonight was her last performance, for a very long time..  
  
Tonight was her last night of freedom.  
  
Where she was going there would be no chance to do the one with in the world she loved-sing.  
  
She was guilty and she wasn't going to deny it. Why should she? She was proud of her crime, and anyway, it was too late. There was no turning back the clock. What was done was done and it was too late to reverse her destiny.  
  
Their blood was on her hands-but they deserved everything they got. No one deceived Phoebe Buffay and got away with it Scot free.  
  
Her husband and her sister! The two people she was closest too in this world had stabbed her in the back...and revenge had been the only answer.  
  
Never again in this life would they hurt her like they had done, and she made sure of it.  
  
Murder!  
  
No one noticed the small smirk appear that grew across her face-a smirk of immense, undying satisfaction. She had no regrets, even although she knew she would most certainly hang for this crime of love, but she didn't care, for she would die with her dignity intact, unlike them.  
  
Retribution!  
  
It would only be a matter of time before they came to take her away. But for now she would do what she did best. She would sing.  
  
The crowd roared as her voice flowed out, effortlessly, like expensive silk, filled with emotion.  
  
Little did they know they were witness to one of the most historic nights in the history of Manhattans music scene.  
  
Today she was Phoebe Buffay-Superstar  
  
Tomorrow she would be Phoebe Buffay-Murderess. 


End file.
